creepypastafandomcom-20200222-history
No Regrets
The night sky is beautiful here. I am standing in the driveway of one of the houses on a private road. A light rainfall finds its way to the ground, splashing rhythmically on my face. I breathe in and smell the dew in the morning air, followed closely by the subtle smell of pine. I notice a light fog, permeated only by the Christmas lights of the surrounding houses. There are golden lights covering the bushes in front of a house nearby, and lit candles complementing the color clearly visible in the windows. I walk across the dark grass, the sound of my feet crushing the wet leaves disrupting the near silence. I lay down, and notice a light shining through the trees, creating an interesting effect. The sound of the rain softly hitting the leaves calls out to me comfortably, like a mother calling out to an infant. I close my tired eyes, feeling peaceful and happy, and doze off. I awaken not long after to the sun peeking over the horizon, making beautiful silvers and pinks and blues. The sun shines steadily with no doubt, but could I say the same? Could I say that what I have done was right? My mind wanders back to what brought me to this place. It was a peaceful night, our house softly lit with the gentle glow of candles. My beloved wife and I were tucking our six-year-old daughter in, and were about to head off to bed ourselves. Just as we reached to shift the covers we heard a bang as somebody kicked down our front door. Thinking fast I told my wife to go to our daughter's room to keep her safe, while simultaneously reaching for the gun I kept in the locked drawer next to my bed, and rushed down the stairs, the blood pounding in my ears, the adrenaline rushing through my veins. The front door was laying on the ground, but I saw nobody there. To the right was the den, which connected to the kitchen, which connected to the living room, which contained the staircase. In the kitchen was a door to the basement. After searching the downstairs, I saw a person in a grey hooded sweatshirt and blue jeans slip into the basement. I was going to have to go down there to find whoever broke into my house. My heart pounded in my chest, in the basement there are dozens of ways to ambush somebody, it was so cluttered. Nevertheless I rushed down there. I looked around, seeing nothing but darkness and the occasional outline of a box. I started searching the basement, wishing I had a flashlight. It was about then I heard my wife scream. I ran as fast as I could towards the stairs, but before I got there I tripped over something, and the last thing I remembered was a sharp pain in the back of my head, and then everything was black. Hours later I got up, my mind fuzzy. Where was I? I walked toward the light beaming down from the first floor. Oh, I was in the basement. Why was I here? And why was the back of my hair wet? I walked up the stairs, then remembered. I ran upstairs to see if anybody was hurt. What I saw then haunted me to this day, and will for the rest of my life. My wife, hacked to pieces, her head mounted on the wall by a nail straight through the head, she had a terrified look on her face. Her body was partly under the bed, making a pool of blood, and her limbs scattered around the room. I sat down and just stared at her disembodied head, feeling numb. It must have been a nightmare, I kept telling myself that over and over. I didn't have the strength to look for my daughter, it all got sapped from the sight of my beloved wife bleeding everywhere, I walked over to her left arm, a bloodstained knife grasped in her hand. At least she had tried to defend herself. That gave me a little comfort. I heard sirens in the distance. The police ran through the broken door and came upstairs, guns pointed in front of them, and found one man grasping his wife's hand, tears running down his face, maybe they could help. "Hands in the air now!" Guess not. I put my wife's arm down and stood up slowly, then turned around. They asked me who I was. I guess I answered, but I don't remember even being able to open my mouth. The guy shouted something at his partner and walked up to me. He asked me who I was, I stuttered out something along the lines of being her husband. I pulled out my wallet and gave my driver's license to prove it. I sat down again, The officer looked at me for a minute then kneeled next to me and said in a gentle voice "Hey, we can give you a room at our station for a night or two. Also, my partner and I-" his sentence was cut short by a subtle hissing sound. Then officer looked concerned, he walked downstairs and was gone for about 10 seconds before he came in yelling, He screamed that we had to get out, something about fire. In the heat of the moment I took the ring from my wife's finger, as a testament that until I get the sick son of a bitch who killed my family, I would not rest. I would not sleep until that man was drowning in his own blood. I grasped it and held it to my heart. I then fled my house, seconds before a burning tank of some flammable substance exploded and set my house on fire. I spotted a flash of gray in the dark in my peripheral vision, how I could see that in the dark, I don't know, all I know is that I took off running after it, for I knew that it was the same person that had just butchered my family. Somehow I caught up to the person, and grabbed that back of their hoodie with my left hand, Simultaneously I swung my right fist at their head. They ducked and broke loose of my grip, and sprinted off into the darkness. The officers caught up with me and guided me back to their cars. I sat in the backseat, feeling cold and numb. When we finally arrived at the station, I noticed that there was a piece of gray cloth grasped tightly in my hand, my mind struggled to process this small bit of information. After about a minute standing in the complete darkness staring at a little piece of cloth, it dawned upon me that the person that butchered my family was wearing gray, and I owned no gray clothes. I looked up to see the two officers that drove me here waiting by the doors. I rushed over to one and showed him the piece of cloth, unable to speak because of the night's events. Realization washed over his blank expression and he gently took it. He said softly he'd send it over to Forensics. He gestured to his partner, and his partner led me through that station, to a small room that looked like a bedroom. I laid on a nearby couch, and after a few hours finally fell asleep. After what felt like a minute I was being shaken awake by the officer. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I wondered where I was, and why I was here. My heart fell as I remembered yesterdays events, and hot tears fell like oil dripping heavily on the cold steel that now was my own reflection. If I was to avenge my family, I couldn't just go out after the killer with no idea what I was doing. No, I had to come up with a plan, and after I exact my revenge, I could grieve all I wanted. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't hear the officer talking until he said "And we have her name and location". Well that fits in nicely. "But she's on the move". Well then, that would make the result even more satisfying. I slid into the passenger seat of a car and an unfamiliar officer sat in the front. He was roughly 35, with no hair, and built like a small bear. We drove for about a half hour in complete silence. We pulled up in a clearing in the middle of nowhere. The officers stepped out and started walking into the woods, guns pointed in front of them. I followed silently. I was so close to my revenge... I followed the officers to a small shack, light shining through the badly put together boards. I felt a burning need in my chest to go rush at the shack, and end the life of the one who had ended those most dearest to me. But I knew I must not. The officer that was built like a bear mentioned for me to follow him, I crept toward the shack, trying to step lightly. Apparently not lightly enough, a twig snapped under my foot, and I stood there like a deer in headlights, while the very person who butchered my family peered around the door with a shotgun in her hand. She had shoulder length, straight, brown hair, almond colored eyes, and a sharp nose. “Stop! we have you surrounded!” Shouted one of the officers in a gravely voice. Her eyes darted around her opposition, the five policemen holding pistols aimed at her head, and the one man standing there like a deer in headlights, no weapon but a tightly clenched fist. Time seemed to slow down, but she didn't. She bolted in the other direction. The officers just stood there and fired their pistols into the darkness, but I wasn't going to let the person who had ruined my life just get away like that! I sprinted right after her. Just when I was about in arm's length, she whipped around and pointed the shotgun point-blank at my face. I darted to one side of the barrel and grabbed it, at the same time I kicked at her hands with all the force I could muster, breaking the gun from her grasp. Not to lose momentum, I spun around, still clutching the barrel, and brought the other end of the gun straight into the face of the woman. This was it, the very person who had slaughtered my family was helpless on the ground, I had a gun, and we were all alone in the woods. I had one shot, and I didn't see any more ammunition, so I had to make this worth it. I was about to end her life, but first I needed to make her suffer. I tossed the gun down and started beating her. When I felt I was done, her face was a completely unrecognizable bloody mess. I wish I had a knife, or something else sharp to torture her with. She gurgled something out, but I couldn't recognize what she was saying, I had damaged her throat as well. When I was done with torture, and grabbed the gun and pointed it at her face. I could see the fear in the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. I pulled the trigger. What was left was half of a face, and bits of skull and brain matter all over, covering the forest floor completely with blood within a two-foot radius. My feeling of ecstasy died away and got replaced with guilt and sadness, she had hopes and dreams, she had plans for life, and I ended it. I never even heard her story, she might have had a reason for what she did. So here I was, standing in the middle of the forest, with nothing left but these depressing thoughts. I searched her clothes and found a knife. There was nothing else to do now. I brought the tip of the knife to my jugular vein, and stopped, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I dropped the knife and ran off. To where? I didn't know.. Category:Mental Illness